Hallucino
by Saka Ogawa
Summary: A series of illusions that blur with the truth. Chapter 3: Jet must find where he belongs, before he chooses to forfeit it all.
1. Adam and Jet

Hallucino  
Written by saka, June 20, 2003  
saka[at]belvedia.net 

__________  
Pre-story Notes:

After two slapstick comedy fanfics in a row, I feel I should write something more meaningful. This is my first story arc!  
The whole story will aim to try and fill in the blank of Jet's life before he meets his traveling buddies. Like his relationship with Virginia's father Werner Maxwell. In the game when Virginia was going all whacky about her father, no one ever really cared to ask Jet how he was doing… which I thought was weird, because Werner practically raised the damn kid. Also has some filler-ins for Elliot Enduro, as well as clearing some things up on the borderline relationship with Jet and Virginia (there is NO romance between them in this story though. Sorry J/V fans). Has spoilers from up to the final dungeon (I haven't beaten the game yet). This will probably lead up to 3 or 4 chapters., but maybe more or less depending on how well I plan the chapters or something. Please give me your opinions, and support me through! Please?  
Wild ARMS Advanced 3rd and all related characters are © Media Vision and Sony. The story's all mine. No touchy.

* * *

Hallucino  
Chapter 1: Adam and Jet 

"Open your eyes." 

"Do you hear me? Open your eyes." 

That's such an easy thing to say. 

I open them, and I see the old woman concentrating hard on me. I blink slowly, the kind of blink you make when you've just woken up. I rub my eyes and give a loud, rude yawn. 

"Jet, you've said quite a handful," she tells me. She scratches the end of her wrinkled, bumpy nose, and then hands me a notebook. "I recorded everything, right from the very beginning of the session. Would you like to read it?" 

I shake my head, trying to decipher her words. My sleepiness is still intact. I squeeze my eyes shut, replaying in my mind what she had just said. "Uh… yeah, sure, let me see." Just as I took the notebook from her hands, three people burst into the room. 

"Jet! Are you done?" Virginia calls out to me, leering over my shoulder, trying to read the notebook in my hands. "Is that it? Can I read it? What happened? How do you feel?" 

"Retain yourself, leader," Clive says. "One question at a time!" 

Virginia gives a shy laugh. "Sorry… it's just that I got such a kick out of my session." She pulls out a notebook with a cover similar to the one I have in my hands. Written on the cover in bold black marker was the words VIRGINIA'S PSYCHIC READING. "I talked about my dad a lot… and my aunt and uncle, and lots of other things. It was pretty surreal." 

Gallows shakes his own copy of his session in the air. "Yeah, I told you already that I said a lot of stuff about the future. Maybe Shane's rubbing off on me!" 

Clive readjusts his rimless glasses like he always does when he's about to say or ask something smart. "This practice of yours is very clever," he tells the old woman. "It's amazing how a couple of words can contact the subconscious. Is it popular with the children?" 

"Yes, hypnosis is a very powerful medium," the old woman said, scratching the tip of her nose again. "It may seem like a game to you, but it surely is not something to play around with. You can learn a lot of things about yourself… but you can also surface things you are not ready to handle just yet." And she stares right at me. 

I feel uncomfortable. 

"Now please, Jet needs his privacy," the old woman ushers, and escorts my acquaintances out of the room. 

"If it's not a game to play around with, then why do you promote it like it was?" I ask her when comes back to her desk in front of me. I paid her almost $10,000 for this "psychic reading of a lifetime." 

The woman shrugs. "Good business, I suppose." She gives a hearty laugh that I cringe at, and she points at the notebook still in my hands. 

"Go on. Read it," she says. "I think you'll find it very interesting." 

I look down and see her handwriting. It's nice and elegant looking; her writing held a forward slant and went into a continuous cursive structure. A little too fancy though, I think. Some of the words are hard to read. But I don't have to read it. I don't have to ready any of it. 

In my mind it's already playing a movie of what I saw. 

I remember everything. 

* * *

_Three. _

Two. 

One. 

What do you see? 

I looked around. "I see children playing… I guess I'm in some kind of town." 

_Do you know what town it is?_

"No… no, wait." Just as I said that, I saw a signpost marking the town's name. It was scratched up though, so it was hard to make out. "It's… Little… uh, something. Dammit, I can't read this sign." 

_That's okay, you don't have to know. What else do you see?_

There was not much else to tell about the town. It looked rather plain and dull. So I tried to see if there was anything else I could talk about the children. "Um… the kids look about 10… I dunno, that's about it." 

_Okay, that's good. Are there any houses around?_

"Yeah, I guess I'll take a look around," I said. There was a small wooden house that looked inviting, so I chose to check that out. 

Entering the house felt nostalgic. "I think I've been in this house before." 

_Have you visited it before?_

"No… I don't think… I don't remember." 

_This may sound strange, but could you tell me your name?_

That was a strange question to ask. But I decided to bite. "Adam Kadmon." 

_Hmm, okay. Thank you, Adam. Tell me; is there anyone in the house? Or anything you see that's odd?_

A kid, who looked about 11 or 12, came running down the stairs like something was chasing him. The boy saw me, and immediately latched onto my leg. "Hey! Kid, what the hell are you doing?" 

The kid buried his face into the waist of my shirt, not looking up. "Hide me! Please, hide me!" 

_Adam? What's wrong?_

I wasn't sure of what to do, so I tried to pry the kid off me when I heard a booming voice from upstairs. 

"_JET!!_ YOU GET UP HERE _NOW_, YOUNG MAN!!!" 

The kid whimpered and whispered to me, sounding like a hiss. "Hide me! I know you're a stranger, but hide me!! Please!!" 

_Adam? Are you there? What's wrong?_

"I dunno, but something," I muttered. This whole situation was giving me the creeps, so I was about to leave when that monster of a voice came roaring back again. 

"_JET!!!_ Goddammit, you come up here now or you know what's gonna happen!!" 

I was wondering what "what" was when the boy let of my leg, grabbed my hand, and dragged me out of the house. I didn't have a clue of what was going on, but I definitely felt the kid's fear. He was dead frightened of that guy. Whoever he was. Sooner we were both crouched down under a bridge damp with rats and algae. 

"Sickening, man," I complained, squirming around, being paranoid about getting algae on my skin. "What's with all this?" 

_Adam? Who are you talking to?_

I wasn't sure of how to answer. I didn't want to sound like I was talking to myself like a lunatic. Taking refuse under an infested bridge was lunatic enough. I tried to be smooth about it. "Um, hey, kid? I mean, Jet, right? What was up with that guy at your house? He sounded really pissed at something." 

Jet wiped his eyes and nodded. "That was my dad. I did something bad… I was jumping around and I a-accidentally broke a lamp." He was trembling as he said this, as if he had said he had just committed murder or something. 

I sighed impatiently. "Kid, it's a lamp. Your dad can buy a new one," I said to him. "Why's he getting so bitched up about it?" 

"He gets mad at EVERYTHING!" Jet's voice raised suddenly, and started crying again, hiccupping his words. "H-he's always getting m-mad at such s-stupid things! L-like breaking something, o-or missing a train! He scares me!!" 

I was inferring something from this, but I wanted to make sure. "Does the guy hit you sometimes?" 

Jet wiped his eyes again and sniffled. "All the time." 

"What a jerk," I said. 

Jet chuckled lightly and hugged his knees. "Wow… no one's ever told me that before." 

I gave him a funny look. "You haven't told people about your dad?" 

He shook his head. "No… I don't see any reason to. There's too much trouble." 

"Trouble my ass!!" I yelled, quite loudly I may add. "The jerk's kicking you around and you're just gonna take it like a bitch, huh?! I don't think so! Why don't you run away? Why don't you fight back?!" 

"Because I can't!!" Jet screamed back. "I can't fight back! He'll only hurt me more if I do! There's nothing I can do about it!!" 

_Adam?_

"You could get rid of yourself." 

_Adam?_

"What do you mean?" Jet asked. Even though he asked, I think he knew what I meant. 

"I mean, you could get rid of yourself." 

Jet looked down at his feet. "I… I can't do that. It's too scary." 

I took out a small vial from my pocket. "I can help." 

Jet's face became flushed and his breathing turned into heaving. "What… what is that?" 

I snuck closer to him and gave him a closer look to the vial. "It'll make you sick. It works really slowly; it'll take a couple weeks for the symptoms to even show up, and you'll eventually die of it in a couple months. Call it pneumonia-in-a-bottle." 

_Adam, what are you talking about?_

Jet's small hands graced vile, and then took it. He nodded in a blank consent. "Thank you." 

That's when I wondered where I got that poison. I don't remember ever getting it. But for some reason I can remember taking it. I don't know… I don't get it. 

"Uh… sir?" I looked up to see a little kid, one of the kids I saw playing, staring at me strange. "What are you doing?" 

I shrugged. None of his damn business. "Nothing." 

"Who are you talking to?" 

"Hey, kid, are you blind?" I pointed to Jet, who was looking squeamish with the vial in his hands. "I'm talking to a dumb kid!" 

The child, dead silent, looked over to where I was pointing, stared, and then looked back at me. 

"Sir… there's no one there." 

_Adam? Why are you talking to yourself?_

I looked at Jet. I saw him there. He just stared silently at me. 

Was he there? 

Was I here? 

Where the hell was I? 

"You're nowhere." 

A sudden voice from behind me made me turn around. Once I did, I realized that I wasn't in a small, nameless town anymore. I didn't even feel like the same person anymore. Once I turned around, I found myself watching people from inside a chamber, like I was inside a laboratory. 

"Energy transfusion is 99.8% complete," I heard a woman say. "He almost done." 

A man walked up to me and placed his hand on the window. I saw his pale handprint from where I was. "He's almost done… yes, finally…" 

I knew him. I knew him because he gave me a pang of fear. I wanted him to go away. 

"You know how I feel then." 

The voice rose again. I saw him, but he wasn't in the room. I saw him in my mind. Jet. He looked older by a couple years, but was looking better than ever. He was sitting there in the darkness of my mind, laughing at me in a tone that gave me chills. 

"Feel about what?" I said coldly. "It was YOUR dad that threw you around, not mine." 

"But you feel the anger, don't you? You and I are connected." Jet pointed at the people outside my mind. "Do you know who those people are? They're scientists. They created you. They created you to be their Adam Kadmon, but they're going to call you Jet Enduro. Me." 

"Didn't you kill yourself?" I asked. I knew the answer, duh. I just wanted to hear it from him. 

"Oh yeah, sure did." Jet yawned. "Everyone thought I just caught something. It was the most painful, horrible experience I ever had. Eh, the throwing up blood and 110 fevers weren't so bad. Dad kept beating me, telling me to get over it. So guess what? I eventually died. 

"You know what the scariest part is?" he chuckled and pointed at the man who was eagerly looking at me through the chamber. "Dad wants you to be Jet." 

That was scary. 

_Who wants you to be Jet?_

"Dad wants to start over," Jet said, sounding bored and uninterested. "He thinks that if he can create you again, he'll be a better father this time. Whatever! It won't work." 

"Why not?" I asked. 

"Because he won't change," he said, this time much more serious in his tone. "He'll never change. Never." 

Elliot Enduro. 

Jet wanted to get away from him so bad that he killed himself to do so. 

"You are such a pussy," I said to him. 

Jet scowled. "Why is that?!" 

"So he loses his temper when things go wrong!! So he hit you! So gives a fuck!" I was feeling really heated up. I didn't know why. Maybe it was because I was against the whole suicide thing, or maybe it was because I was against suicide and I went through with it… sort of. "You were only 12 years old… you never thought that sooner or later the pain would all just go away?" 

Jet snickered. 

"What's so funny, dammit?!" 

He gave me an eerie smile. "That's so easy for you to say." 

As I stared at him, he playfully looked down at the scientists outside. "Maybe you're just jealous that my problems are over and yours have only begun." 

He snickered again. "You've got a world of problems ahead of you. You're going to have to see the world and how much you mean to it. You're going to have to see the world. See it." 

I was feeling scared again. Scared of Elliot. I didn't want to go. I wanted someone to hide me. I wanted someone to hide me and offer me a way to escape. But I was alone in this one. 

Jet won't return this favor. He's done. 

"Maybe you'll be lucky," Jet added. "Maybe someone'll save you like you saved me. Sorry I can't do that for you… but I'll be sure to meet you up there when your time's up, okay?" 

I nodded with a blank face. And he was gone. 

And he never came back. 

Elliot wanted to love me. But I knew he couldn't. His love was of obligation, a paternal love he had never dared to feel and never did feel. In return, I didn't want to be near him. But I had to meet him. 

But not before I met Werner Maxwell. 

He was the first person I heard when I was complete. He was the one who told me for the first time 

_Open your eyes. _

Do you hear me? Open your eyes. 

That's such an easy thing to say. 

__________  
Sub-story Notes:

Okay, so… what do you think? Interesting? Really dumb? Should I continue this? Should I be shot for even conjuring this up?  
It could be too serious for Wild ARMS… I don't think the game's THAT serious… actually I think it's pretty whimsical, which is why I wrote comedy stories for it first. But I couldn't resist this idea; the plot hole on Jet's past is way too big.  
So please, give me your opinions, criticism, flames, I don't care. Just talk! Please? 


	2. Hyperbole

Hallucino  
Written by saka, November 09, 2003  
saka[at]belvedia.net 

__________  
Pre-story Notes:

Continuing this arc took me a while. School and a job at the local theater got in the way, not to mention my computer went kaputz (I'm on my mother's computer now). Also, I kept having doubts of the potential of this "story"... The first chapter got some good reactions, which I appreciate, but I was still iffy and insecure about the whole thing. Finally I realized that Jet's too interesting to pass up, and I have nothing else better to do, so I'm going to try and finish up my ideas. 

Also, _please don't try and connect these chapters plot-wise._ These stories are non-sequential; they are part of a story arc because of one theme: a series of illusions that blur with the truth. Each story has different plots, beliefs, and ideas, but all share this one concept. Okay? Okay. 

Wild ARMS 3rd Advanced belongs to Media Vision and Sony and whatever. Story mine. 

* * *

Hallucino  
Chapter 2: Hyperbole 

This happened during what I like to call, "before." When grass was green and skies were blue and water was still existant. Of course, Old Jumper was there too. 

Jumper was what Leehalt Alceste and Melody Vilente called my maintainence machine. Whenever I wasn't feeling too hot, which was more than occasionally, Melody and Leehalt and everybody else would hook me up to Old Jumper and fix me right up. They would make cracks about Jumper, how they could give it some hair and ribbon and call it my mom, how Elliot Enduro could bring in his broken radio for a quick fix, and the dinners Jumper could probably cook for Werner Maxwell and his wife, too sick to cook. 

Leehalt, Melody, and Malik Bendict mostly kept to themselves. If they made jokes it was only amongst themselves; other than that they hardly talked to the other scientists at all. Though I remember one time Duran Bryant¹ and Pete Inkapilia were mixing some chemicals and making them explode into black smoke, trying to impress Melody, as if impressing her would prove anything. Bryant and Inkapilia were having fun, laughing and joking. But Melody was always the kind to be cocky and hard to deal with, the kind of girl mothers would shake their heads at in frustration and grief, so with a sneer of annoyance all she said was, "You're so pretentious," and turned around and lit up a cigarette. 

It was hard to find common ground within the seven scientists; Leehalt, Melody and Malik basically cared for me mechanically, but Bryant, Inkapilia, Elliot and Werner took care of me mentally. I guess I could point out that my parents being huddled out of each others' way was something a little less than, if not right on poignant, but I must admit it was nice to know who exactly to go to with something I needed, whether it was a tweek and a tug or a smile and a hug. 

Elliot and Werner always argued. It was usually about me. It would always concern me, and Inkapilia would tell me not to worry about it, but I knew it had to be a lie, because what kind of arguments go unconcerned when they never seem to be resolved? When they argued about me, it was always about the same thing: Jet. 

Werner never agreed with Elliot about anything. Inkapilia and Bryant told me Werner was against letting Elliot model and name me after his dead son Jet, although at the time I didn't see the problem, because I was naïve and I liked the name Jet Enduro. As time rolled on, I learned that it _was_, in a teeny tiny microscopic atom-sized way, a sick, morbid thing to do, however I concluded that even though it was creepy, Elliot was just lonely and he missed his son. Werner, though, never changed his mind about it. 

I had never told Werner this, because I was afraid I'd initiate more conflict, but Elliot had built a favor in hooking me up to Old Jumper and telling me about Jet. Elliot found ways to program Jumper to show me images and videos of Jet, and I'd enjoy them because Jet seemed like a fun character and it was interesting to know what Elliot's son was like. Never having been human, I never realized how free humans were. 

Malik and Leehalt did, eventually, find out by themselves that Elliot had tampered with the maintainence program, and ordered him to delete it off Jumper. Everyone agreed, even Bryant and Inkapilia, who were usually neutral to conflicts, but it was needless to say Werner was more than happy with the resolution. Elliot was reluctant to take it off, but of course, he did, since he had no other choice, other than get kicked out of the Council of Seven for risking altering the blueprints of their plans to whatever the whatever the whereever. 

I probably would've had no say in it, but if I got to say anything at all, it would be that I would've missed Jet. 

And I did. Jet was cool. Even though all I got to do was watch him. 

While Elliot tried to raise me by reminding me that I was his "son," Werner raised me by reminding me I was my own person. Werner'd always ask me what I would like to do for the day, and I'd always try to think of something new to say, just so I wouldn't sound dull and uncreative. One day I asked to learn how to use a gun. So Werner asked Leehalt, and gave me this neat looking gun called an ARM. He said the ARM was called Argetlahm; it was carved out of a legendary sword a warrior once weld. 

First thing I thought: that story is worth more than the gun. But all in all, I got a cool gun, and that was all I needed to know. 

Werner taught me how to use it; he said it was going to be important that I learn. 

Melody didn't like the idea of me learning to use a gun. I suppose it was just a girl thing, but I didn't see why it should've stopped me from continuing. She never actually told me to stop, or did anything to make me stop, but it was enough said when I would do practice shots and, in her cocky, hard-to-deal-with attitude, she'd mutter to herself -- or me, I could never figure out -- "You're so pretentious," and light herself another cigarette. 

Among all the interesting things I learned, though much of it came from Elliot's images of Jet and Werner's hands-on activities, the most compelling thing I came across came from something Bryant said. He told me that if Werner (a) actually convinced the Council of Seven to kick Elliot out for showing me Jet (x), Elliot would have to continue his work outside the laboratory, meaning that I (y) would be continued by the other scientists (b), but if that happened, Bryant said my brain would probably collapse on itself from the missing link of Jet and his presence in my conscious, so my brain would either 1.) shut down; or 2.) recreate Jet to seek the mental balance, and I'd start to become Jet (1). 

x² y² = 1  
a² b² 

I could tell you that it was either 1 or 2, but I'd be lying. Even though the Council told Elliot to delete Jet off Jumper, there were times where he'd sneak it in and continue showing me. There were problems though. The program was buggy since it was not permanently stable in Jumper, so the things got a little... confusing. Glitches appeared all over the place, from Jet playing tag with a running novel book to Jet's body being replaced with a two-fold lamp. 

Elliot never figured out how to bypass the glitches, so he sadly told me he had to ditch the whole thing; he didn't want me to remember Jet in such a way. Disappointment hit me first, then dread: what about what Bryant said about me and Jet? Basically, what Bryant said was, if Jet goes, I go. I told Elliot to show me Jet one more time before he shut him down for good. 

This happened during what I like to call, "it." 

The worst possible time to bring up Jet, Werner showed up. With the way he talks he thinks like a god; scarily intimidating yet you can't turn away from him or you'll be done. I was still hooked up to Old Jumper as Elliot argued with the god, and soon enough they prayed with their fists clenched and flying, and all I saw was Jet. 

He wasn't glitching, doing anything weird, eating something inedible, talking to inanimate objects. He was Jet. He was smiling, and I knew that smile was at me. I knew I was no longer watching videos of him, he was there, watching _me_, watching Elliot and Werner pray for my redemption and knowing that if Melody were watching, all she'd do is flip her beautiful hair and say, "You're so pretentious," and light up another goddamn cigarette. Jet was here, he had always been, and he wanted to tell me something. 

No "you're so pretentious," not a word at all. Just a nod of his head and the saddest look on his face told me that I had to go. Jet was a part of me now, probably always had been. And everyone knew that it was time for me to go, as Jumper cried for its own redemption, sobbing red light throughout the laboratory, sobs that seemed to cry out _Help me. Stop what you're doing. Just stop it and help me, please,_ a threatening suicide. Jet and I were too much for Jumper. We were too much for everybody. 

Werner, realizing Jumper's cries, took me off the machine and gave me a hug. He told me this was where everything I learned from him will be set in place. 

1. 

I shut down. 

But I come back again. 

What happens after that is during what I like to call...... 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
chapter 2: end 

  
  
  
  


__________  
Sub-story Notes:

Ungh. I'm not sure. I don't think this is what I had in mind for this story. What do _you_ think? Please leave some reviews and tell me if I'm going in the right direction with this whole thing. 

Next story: Jet enters a world with no limits, no boundaries, no rules, and only one person can save him from letting go. 

¹ - Thank you Teefa85 for telling me his real name. Verily appreciated. 

² - There is no word in this story that connects to this footnote, so haha on you. Anyway, the word "hyperbole" can be defined as either a grammatical noun, which means something that's exaggerated for the purpose of making a point; or as a mathematical term, meaning an overshoot -- two open branches each extending forever. The story rides on this word, seeing as either android Jet's view of the world as a hyperbole or as his situation as a hyperbolic equation. 


	3. Dreamcatcher

Hallucino  
Written by saka, January 22, 2004  
saka[at]belvedia.net 

__________  
Pre-story Notes:

I think this chapter will attract the most readers. It's about Jet and Virginia. Still, there's NO ROMANCE. I'm sorry, but there's enough of J/V fics out there to satisfy your needs for this pair. I'm here to please, but I don't agree with this pairing! I don't need to give any reasons. I just don't like it. 

Story points:  
A dreamcatcher is an Indian mobile hung over beds to "catch" nightmares from being dreamt. 

Read between the lines and you can tell when Jet is dreaming and when he's awake. When he switches staes, the narration changes, and starts abruptly and ends fragmented. Dreams are a lot like this. 

  
Wild ARMS Advanced 3rd belongs to Media Vision and Sony. Story is mine. 

* * *

Hallucino  
Chapter 3: Dreamcatcher 

  
for he was scared and cold and homeless. 

Such darkness gave him a chill that pierced his bones. He tried to hug himself warm but his arms felt so heavy. The harder he tried, the more hopeless he felt. 

All he wanted was warmth. He could feel it above him. He stretched his hand towards the sky as high as he could, but all he could touch was the cold feel of nothing. 

He closed his eyes and said 

"It looks nice, doesn't it?" 

I stared at the eloquently-designed hanging mobile and pondered at Virginia's question. "Yeah, it looks nice," I said. Actually, I thought it would look better in the trash. But there was no reason to speak the truth, and besides, Virginia seemed to like it a lot. She hates having her bubble burst. 

"I can't believe that woman sold it to us for so cheap!" she continued on, touching the mobile, smoothing the feathers that dangled from the arrangement of beads and string. "It goes great in here too." 

I looked around and had to agree. The dreamcatcher, what the woman merchant told us it was, meshed with Gallows' house perfectly, right down to the nicely lit fire that's always present next to the beds. Virginia bought it for herself, really, but found it right in her mind to hang it above Gallows' beds, as we usually stay the nights at his house, I suppose. 

To me, all this trouble was pretty worthless, but whatever makes Virginia happy. After all, she calls the shots. 

She's my leader. 

I silently shuddered an _ew_. 

It was getting dark, so we both stopped staring at the mobile, and went outside to call Clive and Gallows' for bedtime. I should've taken the chance to dash on out of here. 

Who needs these guys? 

Not me, that's for sure. 

Those two sentences replayed over and over in my mind like a chant as I fell into a quiet sleep on my bed, under the stars, under Gallows' roof, under the dreamcatcher. 

Not me. 

woke up, surprised that he was lying on his side, in a pool of water, and he was watching himself from above. 

He lifted himself, feeling heavy, feeling ached. He observed the surroundings and saw what looked like an old sewer. He wiped at his skin to shake the water off, but only to find that his skin was dry. He stared at the water he was sitting in and found his reflection, undistorted by his presence, unrippled. He bent down to run his hand through the water to effect it, but a voice smoothly said, "Don't touch it." 

He looked up and turned around to face the soft, familiar voice. He stood up, walked over to the voice, and with a smile, raised his hand for a high-five. "Hey, Mors, what's up?" he said. 

He got his expected response; a friendly slap to his hand and a firm grip lingering afterwards. "Nothing much," Mors said with a warm smile. "How about you?" 

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, I guess," he said, gesturing to his surroundings. "I always wanted to live in raw sewage." 

Mors laughed, the sincere, throaty laugh, the handsome features of his young face crinkled up as he smiled. "Attaboy. You were always the smart-ass kind." 

"You know me," he said. And when he said that, another thought popped into his head. "How long have we known each other?" 

Mors laughed again. "Oh. Since forever." 

He thought about what Mors said for a second. Then he shrugged. Sounded about right. 

"I'm sorry to tell you this," Mors started, scratching the back of his head and looking uncertain yet playful, "but I've got some bad news for you." 

"Oh, really," he said. "Shoot." 

Mors laughed again, the nervous, unwilling laugh. "Sorry, but... it's time, man." 

He gave him a funny look. "Time for what?" 

Mors gave a kind of sharp inhale and said 

"Sleep's the best medicine." 

I looked at Virginia suspiciously. "Don't you mean 'laughter'?" 

Virginia shrugged. "You could use some of that too." 

I dismissed her insult and yawned. I haven't slept in days. Something was keeping me awake, but I couldn't pinpoint it. I rolled over on my bed and shut my eyes, trying so hard to fall asleep. I kept thinking of how tired I was, how comfortable the bed felt, and how the dreamcatcher above my bed seemed to taunt me: _I'd save you the trouble of nightmares... if you could sleep in the first place!_

I felt like I was in a nightmare already. I just wanted some sleep. 

pushed his way into a room and saw his friend on the other side. 

"Hey, Hypnos!" he jogged over to his friend to greet him. "How's it hanging?" 

Hypnos crudely dug into his ear with his pinky finger and tsked. "S'all right, I guess. I need to talk to my brother. Have you seen him?" 

He looked back at the door he just entered from. "Mors? I just talked to him; he's back there. He's doing all right." 

Hypnos looked uneasy. "Did he tell you the news?" 

He thought for a minute. "Sort of... we got interrupted or something, so he didn't tell me what. But he did say it was bad news." 

Hypnos shook his head. "Figures. Can't trust Mors with anything." He made a luring gesture with his finger and walked towards a glass panel, bright white from the blinding sun shining through. "Come here." 

He looked at Hypnos with distrust. "Are we hanging at your place again?" 

"Sure," Hypnos said, in a jest manner, purposely vague in his answer, and encouraged him to follow. 

"I don't know," he said, definately unassured. "It doesn't seem right." 

Hypnos, calmly and friendly, gave him a stern and firm look. "Hey, c'mon. You can trust me. I've known you all your life. We're not going anywhere that's freaky or scary. We're just gonna go talk to my brother." With another hand flick, Hypnos hinted at him to come along. 

"Who, Mors?" he asked. He decided to bite and ran to catch up to Hypnos. 

"No," Hypnos said, looking away, looking uneasy. 

"You have another brother?" he asked. 

Hypnos chuckled. "Yeah," he said, his hand on the door handle of the glass panel, "you haven't met him yet though." 

He raised an eyebrow at Hypnos. "I bet he's a jerk." 

Hypnos smiled. "No no. I think you'll like him." 

Hypnos pushed the door open, and blindness seeped through even more, and soon as the light faded the 

I stared into the dreamcatcher as if it were telling me a story, a legend, an old monologue no one could hear but me. 

The more I stared, the more beautiful it became. Shhyeah. Still, it induced none of the much needed sleep that I begged for. 

What was keeping me awake? It was like some inner demons in my brain were causing a death-by-insomnolence. I could feel it moving in my brain, something strange, something making me move, and sleep would be the only cure. Something was making me move! I turned to my other side, squeezed my eyes shut, and flipped my pillow over my head to drown out the noise that was already absent. 

I didn't want to move. Just give me my sleep. 

Then I felt a _tap tap_ on my shoulder. A familiar fragrant scent hit me by then, so I got ready to ask Virginia what the heck did she want. 

didn't want to go. 

"Hypnos," he started, looking around this strange new room of candles and eyes that he felt reaming into his mind. "I want out. This place gives me the creeps." 

"Don't worry," Hypnos said. "You're going to be fine." 

Surely he did not doubt his friend, but his words were not comforting. The eyes continued to bore. He wished for the eyes to close, but they remained awake, unblinking and haunting. 

"No, no," he said, shaking his head disapprovingly, "I have a bad feeling about this, Hypnos. Just take me back to your place. I'd feel better there." 

Hypnos walked over to him calmly and said, "Please. Just relax and we won't hurt you." 

At that moment his heart began to sting, each pound resounding with pain, a deafening pulse in his temples. He cried in suprise at the sharpness of his pain, as his heart seemed to spit acid into his body. Soon he cried in despair for the eyes were still watching, never sleeping, never ending his suffering. 

"Hypnos...!" he clutched the clothing near his heart is if it would stop the pain. He felt his shoulders being rubbed soothingly by his friend. 

"Let go," Hypnos said, only now his brother Mors and another figure--his face blurred by the tears that streamed down his own face--were with him. "Just let go and it won't hurt. _Let go!!_" 

A trust in his friend and a want for the pain to end, he shut his eyes and let go. He felt the hurt begin to convert itself into something else, not much like pain, but more like... drowning. 

"Hey." 

He turned around to see the man with Hypnos who he couldn't identify. He looked a lot like Hypnos, as Mors was, so he assumed the obvious. "Are you Hypnos's brother?" 

The man nodded. "Yeah. My name's Thanatos." And then he looked away. 

The first thing he thought was that Thanatos was a quiet type. It did not dawn on his that not only was Hypnos and Mors not in the room anymore, but Thanatos and him were alone in a completely different room, that was strangely familiar to him. 

"Do you remember this?" Thanatos asked him with a sullen look to his face. 

He looked around and saw nothing and everything. The drowning sensation was still there, but he breathed. He was breathing water. He remembered, and saw him. That man who would alway be familiar to him, in good ways and bad. Even though he drowned in liquid air, he screamed out to his hallucination. 

"_WERNER!!_" 

His cry did not move Werner Maxwell. 

It was like a flash. The sensations, the emotions, and visions, they were gone, as quickly as they had come. A piece of his life had just flashed before his eyes. 

Oh. 

So that's what Mors meant when he 

"It would be wrong for me to expect you to stay," Virginia said, "but you're our friend." 

I sighed and pulled my blanket closer to my face. It still bothered Virginia. "Look, it's nothing personal. I mean--" I glanced at the door for a second, subconsciously I guess, "--...I like you guys too, but there's just things I gotta do by myself." 

"Let us help you!" she pressed, almost impatiently, as if she said this to me all the time. "Look at how much we've accomplished by working together! We can help you." 

I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't let me. "What if something happens to you? You know how hurt we would all be. And you're one of my best friends." Virginia's eyebrows wrinkled towards her nose in worry. "You _are_ my best friend! We've helped each other a lot. Why won't you let me help you now?!" 

I thought about that. I guess I couldn't really see why she thought of me as her best friend. I knew we all helped her depression when she learned the truth about her father, but the key word was we. Maybe I did something that stood out to her. My mind raced backwards but couldn't think of anything. I saw her as my friend too, but not exactly best. She was a little rocky right now. 

The fact that she was rocky was the reason why I didn't want her to help. She has her own problems to deal with. I shouldn't bother her. 

"I'm just tired of you guys bothering me," I said. "There's just things that a guy's gotta do alone." 

I spun so my back faced Virginia, and yawned loudly. "Go away and lemme sleep." 

But she still wouldn't let up. 

red. 

"Get up," Thanatos said, offering a hand to him. "It's time." 

He sat up from the bed, looking at the red sheets that comforted him. He immediately recognized it as one of Hypnos's guest beds. I knew if he stayed he would be healed, the eyes that stared would sleep, and all would be well. His time was near, though, and he grabbed Thanatos's hand and they both walked towards the blinding light that plagued his entire life. 

"It'll be over soon," Thanatos said softly. "There's something I have to ask you, though." 

He looked at Thanatos questionably. "What?" 

Thanatos handed him a compass and smiled. "North or South?" 

He studied the compass he had received. The needle flickered between northwest and west, almost like it wanted to point north but something was in the way. He shook the device, but the flickering remained. 

"North doesn't actually mean _North_," Thanatos said quietly, still walking towards the light ahead, "and same for South. To a lot of people, South means something bad, but South could be good. North is always good, but it's a rare thing to see people who know exactly where it is." 

He looked at Thanatos in amazement. "Well, jeez, it's obvious where I wanna go!" He shook his head at his friend and groaned. "You shouldn't even have to ask." 

"So, what," Thanatos spitted, "North or South?" 

He was thoroughly confused. He stared at the compass, which continued to flicker towards North, but not exactly there. He knew he would rather go back to that bed that was so comfortable, but he was being forced a choice between North or South. Could both free him of his suffering? 

Where did North point for him? 

A voice. A soft, feminate voice, made him turn back to face a girl with a sweet smile on her face. 

"Hi," she greeted. "Do you remember me?" 

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm your best friend." 

The girl pouted playfully. "That's not what I asked." She shook her head, still smiling, and reached out her hand towards him. "Come here. Let me help you." 

He looked at Thanatos, and Hypnos, and Mors, whom all smiled at him. He returned his eyes to the girl. "I don't need your help. I've got things to do." 

The girl still smiled, unrelenting. "I know you're hurting. You're scared. I know I can help you. Just let me try and I know you'll be okay." 

The girl's words gave him such comfort, words he had needed to hear a long time ago. He allowed her words to breeze across his mind, and decided to walk away from his friends, and towards the girl. 

"Mors!" he called back as he walked away with the mysterious girl, "wrong again?" 

Mors shrugged. "Obviously." He waved his hand good-bye. "I'll be here when you're ready. Again." 

He nodded at Mors, then looked at Hypnos and said, "See you soon, right?" 

Hypnos laughed. "Be there in a couple minutes." 

And he nodded at Hypnos, then looked at Thanatos, and smiled. He had always wanted to do that. 

Thanatos smiled back. 

The blindling light was gone. And he was back on red sheets, the girl at the edge of the bed, and she smiled. 

"You'll be okay," she said. "Just let me help you, and everything will be okay." 

Comfort filled the void he had felt. And the eyes were no longer there to see 

"Thank the Jesus he's finally asleep," Virginia said. She pulled the blankets over my shoulders, walked towards her own bed, and slumped into her pillows. I could hear her mumbling to herself. 

That was really nice of her. The warm milk she brought me was kicking in, and I started feeling like I was actually falling asleep. I wish she wouldn't be so pushy on being so helpful though. It's not a good look on her. 

She thinks I've fallen asleep. I'll give her that satisfaction for now. I'll fall asleep soon, and maybe dream of the good times I've learned to experience because of my friends. Maybe I'll dream of overcoming this sense of lonliness and trust my friends. Maybe I'll dream of Virginia, being _my_ best friend too. No matter what I'll dream, I know things will be okay, things will be okay even when I don't want it to be, and help will always be there, and if I'm lost all I will do is take out my compass, and I will always know where North points. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
chapter 3: end 

  
  
  
  


__________  
Sub-story Notes:

This is the last chapter of Hallucino, unless I become inspired with an idea. 

Jet's "dream" fluctuates. Which one is his dream? Is he dreaming of Mors and his brothers, or is he dreaming of being awake, unable to sleep, under the dreamcatcher? 

Mors, Hypnos, and Thanatos are not just made up character names. They are from Greek mythology: gods of Doom, Sleep, and Death, respectively. They are not violent and hateful; they are actually peaceful and bring their work peacefully. Mors is like fate; he determines your death. Hypnos brings restorative sleep during the night, while Thanatos brings eternal sleep. 


End file.
